


Mistaken Fatality

by Nevermore_red



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Doctor fails, F/M, Roommates, Smut, Virgin!Sandor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-16 03:48:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17542100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nevermore_red/pseuds/Nevermore_red
Summary: Sandor receives news that he hasn't got long to live. There's just one thing he wants to do before he dies, and that's finally lose his virginity. But the only person he wants that to be with is Sansa Stark, his roommate.





	Mistaken Fatality

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt given to me by a dear friend of mine on Tumblr. She asked for it to be silly, and I really did try to keep it light and initially went for humor, but didn't quite hit the mark. I do hope she still enjoys it!

“Can I talk to you?”

Sansa looked up from where she was scanning social media on her phone. She was curled up in the corner of the sofa, a pillow propping her head up on the arm and a fluffy blanket wrapped around her. It was her usual position this late in the evening and always had been since they had started living together a few months before.

“Sure.” She smiled, patting the space beside her and setting her phone off to the side. Sandor sighed heavily before dropping onto the edge of the cushion, not fully relaxing.

“I got the results from my scans and blood work back.” He said, looking at the coffee table instead of at her.

“Yeah? Was it a pulled neck muscle like you thought?” she lifted a hand and started gently massaging the side of his neck that had been bothering him lately. Sandor leaned into the touch and closed his eyes.

“No. I guess it’s a bit more than that.” He swallowed. “I’m dying.”

Sansa’s hand went still on his neck for a moment, and then she started giggling. “Oh, hush. That’s such an awful joke.”

Sandor looked back at her, not smiling. “It’s not a joke.”

Her smile waned and the hand on his neck slid down his bicep as she sat up straighter and took hold of his forearm.

“What do you mean, you’re dying?”

“Dying.” He shrugged. “Kicking off. Passing away. Pegging out. The long farewell. The big sleep. Pushing up…”

“Stop.” She breathed out the word and then tugged on his arm so he turned on the sofa to face her fully. Her bottom lip quivered a little and her big blue eyes were shinning with unshed tears. “How?”

Sandor shrugged.

“But you’re…you’re so fit.” She did a once over of his body while her cheeks tinged pink. “And you eat so healthy and you haven’t drunk or smoked in years. How can you be…you’re not even sick.” she stopped when her voice broke and covered her mouth with her hand for a moment.

“The cancer says otherwise.” He pulled his arm free of where she was still holding it and took her hand in his instead. With his thumb, he rubbed over her knuckles gently, willing her to calm down so he didn’t lose his shit as well.

Actually, he wasn’t all that concerned with dying. In his mind he’d been living on borrowed time for quite a while now. Truthfully, he always knew he’d die young, he just hadn’t thought it would be this way. Or that his single and only regret would be his lack of sexual experience. Namely with the girl sitting in front of him. Not that he’d had sexual experiences with anyone else, ever. Then again, Sansa was the first and only person that made him want to experience that sort of intimacy.

“How…how are you feeling?” she dropped her hand to his knee.

Turned on actually, which was really fucked up, but he was always a little turned on when Sansa touched him.

“Fine. I don’t feel sick at all, actually.”

“And there’s no treatment, no medicines or procedures they can do?”

“It’d just be beating a dead horse. Or hound.” He grinned at his own morbid joke, but Sansa gave him a look that said she wasn’t finding any humor in the moment. “It’s too late for all that.”

Sansa nodded, blinking rapidly as she looked off towards the side for a moment to gather herself. Then she took a deep breath, swallowed a few times, and looked back at him. He could see the change in her. She was determined to be strong, to be the one comforting him.

“Are you scared?” she asked gently.

“Not really.” He shook his head. “Dying is just dying. Honestly never thought I’d live this long with the life I lived.”

“It really doesn’t worry you?” she looked doubtful and Sandor really couldn’t blame her. He didn’t fully understand why he wasn’t worried himself, but it was probably denial or something.

“I don’t _want_ to die. I’d rather live, to be here with…” he stopped himself from saying her, not wanting to put so much on her at once. Instead, he went for levity. “The thing that bothers me the most is the idea of some stranger seeing me naked afterwards. Seems pretty skivvy to me.” He gave a mock shudder and Sansa gave him a reluctant smile. He always teased her when she had used the word skivvy in the past.

“They’re professionals.” She squeezed his knee. “They’ve seen lots of naked bodies. Yours won’t be any different to them.”

“Yeah, but they’ll be my first.”

“First what? First mortician? That’s how it works, darling. You only die once.”

Sandor snorted and shook his head. “No, I meant the first to see me naked. At least as an adult. I guess my mom did when I was a babe. Maybe even pops, though I doubt he did any diaper duty or bathing. And I did share showers when I was boxing, so there’s that.”

“Then how does, um, sex…” Sandor huffed in amusement when she whispered the word. “work for you? Do you just keep under the covers with the lights out? Surely some woman saw you naked a time or two.”

“Sex doesn’t work for me, because I don’t _have_ sex.” He narrowed his eyes in suspicion at her shocked look. He was sure she knew that. Hell, they’d been friends for a long time, roommates for months, and he’d never had a woman around. Ever.

“You mean…”

Sandor rolled his eyes at her astonished tone. “Yes, Little Bird, I mean I’m a virgin. It’s not a big deal.”

“Of course not.” She said quickly. “I just assumed. I mean, you are a very…” she trailed off as she scanned his body slowly. “A very, uh,” she paused to lick her lips. “Masculine man.”

She seemed to realize she was ogling, which Sandor honestly wasn’t minding, and snapped her eyes back to his.

“I shouldn’t have assumed your sexual orientation. There’s nothing wrong with being asexual. I didn’t mean that offensively.”

“I’m not asexual.” He laughed. “I get turned on by women. I watch porn and jack off. I just had never met someone that made me want to actually have sex.”

“ _Had_ never?”

“Huh?”

Sansa cleared her throat and shifted a little. The hand that was still holding his started fidgeting.

“You said you had never. Which would mean that you eventually did meet someone. Unless you didn’t mean to say that.”

Sandor froze for a moment, wondering what to do. He hadn’t meant that slip up, and hadn’t expected her to catch it either. But that was Sansa. She didn’t miss a thing when it came to him. Unless it was his giant, glaring virginity.

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah, there is…someone.”

She looked up at him with wide eyes searching his face and he couldn’t quite get a read on her. She looked forlorn almost, but also a sad sort of happiness. It was confusing.

“You should say something to her.” She finally said. “Use the time you have to do the things you want.”

“Like fucking?” he tried for levity, to sound taunting, but it came out wrong. Needier than he’d intended.

“Would it be just as simple as that?” she asked. “Or would it be something more? With her?”

“With her?” he chuckled humorlessly and decided to fuck it all. What did he have to lose? Spending the next few months of his life in Bronn’s extra room if she kicked him out? It wouldn’t be so awful. He’d done it before.

“Yeah, it be more with you.”

He waited as it took a second for the penny to drop for her. At first, she nodded sadly, but then froze, eyes flying up to him. Her perfect mouth parted in surprise before she licked her lips.

“Me?” she asked hesitantly.

“Yeah, you.” He tried to sound casual, even added in a shrug. “Don’t…don’t make it into a pity thing. If you don’t want to, it’s not a big deal. We can pretend this never happened.”

“Oh, Sandor.” Sansa shifted out of her blanket, shoving it off the sofa and scooted over until she was practically in his lap. Reaching up with both hands, she cupped his face and smiled at him, tears swimming in her pretty eyes. “You have no idea.” Her voice hitched and she swallowed hard before continuing.

“I have wanted you for so long. Nothing, nothing about anything that happens between us would ever be out of pity.” Her voice broke fully this time and she squeezed her eyes shut, tears spilling over her cheeks. He caught them with his thumbs, gently rubbed them into the smoothness of her cheeks.

“If only we hadn’t waited until the end.” She sniffed, opening her eyes to look at him again.

“Better late than never, right?” he grinned and she laughed through her tears.

Pulling away from him, she wiped her face dry with the sleeve of her sweater, then took a deep steadying breath.

“We can save all the sorrow and sadness for later.” She smiled at him. “For now, would you please take me to bed, Sandor Clegane?”

Not knowing how much longer he’d be able to, Sandor stood up off the sofa and scooped her up in his arms. Sansa giggled happily, arms winding around his neck. As the months wore on and the cancer took its toll, he might not be able to do this anymore, and knowing Sansa, she’d always wanted to be literally swept off her feet. He’d do it for her now, and for as long as his body would allow him.

They neither one spoke as he carried her to his room and laid her on his bed. She beckoned him to join her with open arms and a sweet smile, neither of which he was inclined to ignore. Kissing her was just as sweet as he’d always thought it would be, the softness of her lips pillowing the harshness of his mouth perfectly. He was surprised by her enthusiasm. How she kissed him back just as eagerly, how her hands clutched at his shoulders, then his neck, before threading into his hair. She did want this just as much as he did, and the little noises she let out when he slipped his tongue into her mouth had his head swimming.

Sansa was the one who broke the kiss, pushing him back enough so that she could reach for the bottom of his shirt and pull it over his head. He helped by sitting up and tossing the shirt to the side, then coming back for the hem of her sweater. She sat up as well and he nearly swallowed his damn tongue when he realized she was bare beneath it. Gently shoving her back to the bed, he let his hands map every inch of her torso, watching in utter disbelief as her nipples drew tight beneath his fingers and her back arched into his touch.

“Sandor.” She whispered his name, but it didn’t seem like she really wanted anything from him, just wanted to say his name. It was something he’d always wanted, to hear her say his name in that low voice full of desire, so he leant forward to take a nipple into his mouth to reward her. Everything about her was driving him mad; the way she tasted, the way she moved, the way she smelled, the soft noises she kept making. It drove him on, had him sliding down her torso, kissing and licking every inch he could get to. When he started tugging her leggings off, she slid out from under him so she was sitting up.

“What is it?” he asked, voice low and graveled to the point where he sounded nearly angry. Instead of being scared by it, Sansa just smiled, cheeks flushed red and eyes bright.

“Lay down.” She gave his shoulder a shove that wouldn’t have moved him at all, but he went ahead and fell onto his back beside her. Tossing her leg over his hips, she settled onto his thighs, hands and eyes roaming over his body.

“You are absolutely stunning.” She said softly, fingers toying with the snap of his jeans.

“I’m hairy and scarred.” He reminded her with a grin, but she just shook her head.

“Stunning.” She whispered again, leaning forward to kiss just below his navel. He sucked in a breath at the feel, eyes shutting while her fingers quickly slipped the button of his jeans loose. Once the zipper was also released, he opened his eyes and met hers. She had her bottom lip caught between her teeth and there was nothing in the damn world he wouldn’t give her in that moment. So, he lifted his hips liked she wanted, helped kick his jeans and boxers off. Taking her time making her way back up his legs, she kept dropping kisses along them. At his ankle, his knee, the inside of one thigh and the missing chunk of muscle from the other.

Breathing like he’d ran six miles, Sandor watched as she skipped over his erection, one hand sliding up his thigh to grasp it around the base. Flicking her eyes up to his, she kissed the hollow of one hip, then the other. Embarrassingly enough, Sandor was already shaking with want, cock already leaking. Then she was hovering over the head of him, her hot breath raising goosebumps along his skin. She still held his gaze when she opened her mouth, letting her tongue come out to lick just under the head. Her eyes fluttered closed and Sandor let out a long breath, shoving his head back into the pillow and trying his hardest not to come too soon. But her tongue was swirling around his foreskin before she gently tugged it down, and then her lips were sealing just over the tip in a sort of kiss.

“Fucking hells, Sansa.” He reached down, grasping her by the shoulders and tugging her away from him. It was too much too soon and he did not want to end the first time in her mouth.

“Too much?” she guessed and Sandor chocked out a laugh.

“A little.” He kissed her lips and guided her onto her back again. This time she didn’t stop him when he started removing her leggings. A little out of his depth, Sandor wasn’t exactly sure what he was supposed to be doing. What he did know, was that girls needed time and attention. His fingers or his mouth. Foreplay. But porn hadn’t exactly given him the preparation he needed. Those women were usually faking it and there was never foreplay.

“Here.” Sansa said gently, reaching down to take his hand. Going to her side and propping himself up with his other arm, he let her guide his hand between her thighs. She was already a little wet, and so warm. He groaned right along with her as she drew his fingers between her folds. Leading him from the heat and wetness of her entrance, she guided his fingers higher until they slid over a part of her that had her breath hitching. A small bump that had to be her clit.

“Feel that?” she asked breathlessly, rubbing his finger in circles over it.

“Yeah.” He rasped.

“You can explore, feel around, even go inside me, but this is where it feels the best, so make sure to keep coming back here.”

Sandor nodded and she released his hand so he was on his own. He did what she said, letting his fingers slide around, finding other places that she seemed to enjoy, pressing first one and then two fingers inside of her. He never stayed away from her clit too long though, coming back frequently to rub around it. She was getting wetter, moving with him more, the small bump of her clitoris growing harder.

“Kiss me, please.” She panted at one point, so Sandor leaned down and kissed her hard, his tongue tangling with hers. One of her hands was wound up in his hair, and the other darted down to his between her thighs and held his hand there on her clit. Taking the message that she wanted him to stay there, he did, using the pads of his first two fingers to rub it back and forth in the motion of her hips. Suddenly her mouth jerked away from his, a soft gasp coming from her mouth. Sandor watched her with hazy eyes as she lost focus while she came, the hand she had over his between her thighs eventually brushing him away.

Just watching her come had been enough. It suddenly didn’t even matter if he keeled over right now, he’d die a happy man.

For a moment, Sansa lay there limp, trying to catch her breath with her eyes shut. Sandor watched her, putting down to memory the look of her sated and pleasure wrecked. She’d always been beautiful, but right now Sandor thought she looked like some sort of fallen angel.

Then her eyes fluttered open, her swollen lips pulling up into a smile. She looked at him and let out a happy little sigh, her body shifting to the side so she was hugging him.

“You’re a quick learner.” She said as she nuzzled into his throat.

“When the subject is interesting, sure.” He cupped the back of her head, arching his neck to give her more room to plant her sweet little kisses.

“I haven’t got any condoms.” She said softly, leaning up so they were facing each other again. “But I do take the contraceptive shot. And there’s nothing to be worried about with anything else, because I’m clean.”

Sandor huffed a laugh at that. He supposed it didn’t really matter if she were or not. It wasn’t like he was going to live much longer that any STI would be too bothersome.

“I trust you.” He decided to say instead. Talking about death might ruin the mood.

“Would you like me on top?” she offered gently, fingers toying with the hair on his chest.

It was something he’d thought about before, having Sansa in bed. Sure, he’d imagined her on top. Hells, he imagined her in every position possible. But what he wanted most right now was to see her spread out underneath him. Pressing a kiss to her lips, he nudged her back to laying flat on her back as he shifted himself between her legs. When they were arranged just right, the head of his cock resting against the still hot and wet center of her, he pulled his mouth free of hers so that he could watch her face.

It was slow going, more for his benefit than hers. He’d never done this before and didn’t want to come the second he was inside her. And the feel of her was mind numbing. The warmth, the wet velvet fist that enclosed him chocked the breath out of him. It was so much more than he imagined.

When he was finally set as deep as he could go, he let out a shaky breath. Sansa was breathing hard again beneath him, her hands moving restlessly over his shoulders and back, then down his chest and stomach.

“You feel amazing, Sandor.” She whispered, eyes heavy and voice thick. He wanted to say something back to her, let her know that she felt pretty fucking amazing too, but he couldn’t find his voice. Instead, he lowered himself down until he could bury his face in her neck, letting everything about her surround him. Sansa wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly to her, and he started moving inside of her.

And it was fucking amazing. How she moved with him, how her cunt clung to him every time he thrust out, how she gasped every time he thrust in. It was all too much and he wasn’t going to last much longer, and he couldn’t really find it in himself to care too much. Instead he gave into the feeling, into the burning rush of desire that collected in his groin and tightened his balls. When he broke, his mouth opened, teeth biting down gently on the juncture of her shoulder. The noises he made where things that had never come from him before, but he’d never once come that hard, and no orgasm had lasted that long before either.

When it passed, his entire body felt like it was about to shake apart. Together they rolled to the side, both breathing hard and collecting themselves. Sansa was whispering something, but he couldn’t make it out from all the blood rushing in his ears. He did know that she was dropping kisses all over his neck and shoulders, and even down his chest, before coming back up and kissing his cheeks and chin. When he finally regained control over his muscles, he tipped his head an caught her roving mouth, kissing her long and slow until they both had to pull back to breathe.

“I need to use the bathroom.” She lifted herself up on an elbow so that she was hovering over him. “Would you mind if I came back here to sleep with you tonight?”

“No.” he rasped, voice still rough with pleasure. He lifted his hand, brushed her hair back, then gently touched the mark on her shoulder from his teeth. She smiled, leaned down and pecked his nose, then got up and headed to the bathroom.

While she was gone, Sandor stretched, a huge smile across his face. He hadn’t felt this damn good in…well, probably ever. Too bad he was dying.

Glancing over at the clock on his nightstand, he saw that it was still pretty early, but figured neither of them were actually going to go to sleep any time soon. Knowing Sansa there was probably going to be an emotional breakdown now, and he was expecting it. Hells, maybe he’d break down along with her.

When he got out of bed to use one of his socks to clean up with, he heard his phone in his jeans pocket vibrating. Digging it out, he saw that it was his doctors office. Groaning, he sat on the edge of the bed and answered it.

“Hello, this is Dr….”

“I know who it is.” Sandor cut him off. “What more do you need to tell me?”

“Well, uh, you see Mr. Clegane.” The doctor stuttered, sounding nervous. “I actually have good news. There, uh, there was a bit of a mix up with the files, you see, and well…Congratulations, Mr. Clegane, you aren’t dying.”

Sandor sat there for a long moment, listening to the doctors near hysterical giggle.

“I’m not dying?” he finally asked.

“No. We apologize greatly for the mix up, but the files and results were put in the wrong places, a clerical error you see, and it turns out you just have a strained neck muscle. Ice and rest should do the trick.”

“A strained muscle.” Sandor repeated, and then for some reason, he started laughing loudly, an odd mixture of anger and relief and complete and utter joy rushing through him. The doctor gave a hesitant laugh as well.

“Again, we do apologize. If there is anything, we can poss…”

Sandor hung up before the doctor finished, his laughter starting to die down when Sansa come fluttering back into the room. She was wearing her silky floral robe over her naked body, and she looked concerned and confused.

“Sandor?” she came to sit next to him on the bed, a hand on his shoulder. “What is it? Are you alright?”

“Aye, Little Bird.” He let out a last laugh, turning to gather her up and pull her onto his lap. “That was the doctor.”

“And?” she whispered, eyes darting back and forth between his.

“There was a mix up. My files and someone else or some shit. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m not dying.”

Her eyes widened. “You’re not?”

“No. No cancer or anything. Just a strained neck muscle.”

Sansa’s mouth dropped open and she blinked rapidly for a moment. “Those complete and utter bastards.” She finally said, which surprised a laugh out of Sandor. He’d never heard her curse before.

“How dare they?” she raged. “They can’t just tell someone they’re dying and it not be right. That’s…that’s just not right.”

“Maybe.” He kissed her lips to quiet her. “But I don’t give a buggering fuck. I’m not dying.”

A smile finally spread across her face, both her hands coming up to hold his face. “I’ve never been happier in my life.”

“You sure?” he raised a brow at her. “If this was just something out of pity or something like that, I won’t hold it against you. We can leave tonight as just tonight. If you want.”

“Oh, Sandor, you silly, silly man.” She kissed him softly. “You’re going to live a long, full life. And if you don’t mind, I would very much like to be by your side for it.”

Sandor smiled, then scooted them back on the bed until they were wrapped up in each other, her robe somewhere near the foot of the bed.

It seemed his mistaken fatality was actually the best thing that had ever happened to him.


End file.
